


Loving Hands

by allineedisaquill



Series: PatCap Prompts [3]
Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Massage, The Captain's Creaky Knees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28617792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allineedisaquill/pseuds/allineedisaquill
Summary: The Captain's aching knees threaten to disturb their weekly documentary date, so Pat offers to help.For my PatCap prompt series. Prompt: "Cap's knees hurt sometimes and Pat helps him out"
Relationships: Pat Butcher/The Captain (Ghosts TV 2019)
Series: PatCap Prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087646
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	Loving Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sir_Bedevere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Bedevere/gifts).



> I'm taking prompts over on my Tumblr (patcaps) so send one in and I might just write it!

A perk of their newfound relationship was Pat’s special permission to join the Captain when he watched his documentaries. Pat looked forward to the weekly slot; there wasn’t much he enjoyed more than simply being able to sit together, undisturbed. He knew he wasn’t alone in that, either.

When the Captain took his seat beside him that particular week, it was with stiffness and a small groan. Pat watched as he grit his teeth and subtly flexed his legs in turn, trying to get the pain in his old joints to lift. It was to no avail.

Alison popped in to press play and made herself scarce again with a small smile and a thumbs up. The documentary roared into life, but the Captain barely paid the screen attention, still trying to coax his aches into submission.

“Giving you gyp again?” Pat asked gently once they were alone.

“When aren’t they? I swear, Patrick, my body is still aging,” he grumbled.

Pat laughed to himself. “What happened to being in your prime?”

He was met with further mumbling that he was fairly certain weren’t actual, full words. Pat tutted. He wasn’t about to have their weekly date (of sorts) ruined by doddery knees and the Captain’s grumpiness. Plus, he knew the other man too well, and he would only complain later that he’d missed his programme.

So he patted his own leg twice. “Come on. Pop your legs up.”

The Captain paused with his leg outstretched and stared. “Pardon?”

“You heard. It’s just us, so stretch them out for an hour. It might help.” His smile was sweet and encouraging, and he patted his leg twice more.

After a second more of hesitation, the Captain wearily obliged. He made a soft sound as he turned his body, his back to the armrest, and finally let his legs come to rest over Pat’s lap. He shuffled for a moment, then stilled.

Pat looked at him with open affection. “Comfy?”

“It’s...better, yes.” He turned his face towards the television, and Pat wondered if he was truly distracted by it or simply feeling momentarily exposed. With the way his brows pinched together, he knew where to hedge his bets. “Though the pain is still bothersome,” he added, eyes still on the screen.

“Right,” Pat said, thinking. “I suppose I could... Well, I could rub them, if you like? Can’t promise I’ll be any good, mind, and it might not do much...”

The Captain’s eyes flicked his way, then they were gone just as quickly. Pat recognised it instantly and narrowed his eyes at the side of the Captain’s head. Had the thought already entered the Captain’s mind when he’d suggested putting his legs up?

“Would you?” The Captain asked, and his voice was just a tad too strained for it to be unnoteworthy. It answered Pat’s question just like that.

Pat chose to act oblivious. It was too lovely not to draw the knowledge out for a bit, first.

“‘Course I will, yeah,” Pat said easily, and his hands were already on the knee closest to him.

Pat took his time with each knee, alternating with soft and firm pressure as he massaged them through the thick wool of the Captain’s trousers. The Captain responded with small noises beneath his breath when he hit a particular knot, but he became silent somewhere along the way. When Pat stole a glance, he found the Captain’s eyelids had drooped, his body lax against the sofa.

The rest of the hour passed remarkably quickly, and the credits rolled on the documentary before Pat knew it. The music stirred the man beneath his touch.

“Hm? Yes, jolly good,” the Captain said sharply, forcing himself into sitting.

He couldn’t resist a laugh, his palm drawing lovingly up the Captain’s right shin. “Nice of you to join me again,” he said. “The documentary was good.”

The Captain’s face fell. “Pat. I’m sorry, I-”

“I’m winding you up,” Pat assured, the picture of warmth. “Knees feel better?”

The Captain rolled his eyes, but was relieved nonetheless. He gave an experimental stretch of one leg and brightened considerably. “Apparently so. Excellent idea.” He swung his legs down and made a show of smoothing the creases in his trousers, doing his damned best to appear nonchalant.

“Cap?”

When the Captain looked up, Pat siezed his chance and kissed him. He couldn’t help the way his lips curved into a smile as they pressed together, and he was laughing by the time he drew back. When he saw how perplexed the Captain looked, he simply had to kiss him again.

“Next time,” Pat said, pulling away with a grin, “just bloody ask.”


End file.
